I Will Love You Always
by Clato 27
Summary: "Clove wasn't conceived out of love or to bring her parents and district honor by winning the Hunger Games. She was an accident, an accident that not even the President of Panem himself would have seen coming and turned Brutus Mansfield's life upside down." Brutus and Clove one-shot with some Clato. Rated T for death.


**A/N: this one-shot is celebrating my first year on fan-fiction. It's dedicated to my beta Alice-Cullen-4ever. I wouldn't have been able to post this without her, thanks girl. Hope you enjoy it. **

_Clove wasn't conceived out of love or to bring her parents and district honor by winning the Hunger Games. She was an accident, an accident that not even the President of Panem himself would have seen coming and turned Brutus Mansfield's life upside down._

_He was nineteen when the unexpected was left on his doorstep._

Brutus Mansfield, victor of the 37th Hunger Games, was sitting on his couch with a terrible hangover. He had gotten back from the Capitol the night before and had, as always, decided to drink away the pain of being a sex slave.

The doorbell sounded, making Brutus' head throb. He rolled off the couch and stumbled to the door after the third ring. He threw the door open and yelled, "What do you want?" He cursed when there was no one standing on the porch of his victor's village house.

He was about to slam the door when a cry stopped him. He looked down to see a small bundle of pink blankets, no doubt a baby, with a note pinned to the light pink blanket. There was a bag next to her filled with baby needs. He bent down and took the note off without disturbing the slightly fussy baby. _Dear Brutus_, the note read. _This is your daughter, Clove. Yes, I'm positive she's yours. This might not surprise you but I don't get much out of you if know what I mean. I don't want her so I thought you should have the decision whether to keep her or not. Love Larine._

Brutus scowled, crumpling up the note and throwing it into his over grown front lawn. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you?" Brutus asked the infant. She just stared up at him, her rosebud mouth slightly open and her brown eyes wide. He bent down, cradling the little girl in his arms and slowly backed into the house, scared he would drop the baby.

He laid Clove on his stained couch and stared at her. Growing up in a group home guaranteed he knew how to take care of a baby since none of the people paid to take care of the mother and fatherless children did anything.

Brutus wasn't sure how long he was staring at his presumed daughter, the fact that the child lying in front of him was his wasn't sinking in. He didn't want her. He was a broken victor, a drunk, still a child. He had never loved someone and he wasn't sure if he could. He kneeled in front of the infant for a long time, but he eventually made up his mind on what to do.

He stood, taking Clove in his arms and walked out the door. He was surprised to see that the sky was now dark, but that didn't stop him from walking into the sketchiest part of district two. He stopped in front of the group home he was raised in and looked at the terribly constructed building. He hated what he was about to do but saw no other way.

He laid his daughter on the snow-covered ground but couldn't manage to move his feet. Clove looked at him with her big, brown eyes- his eyes- and Brutus could see love in them. He knew he was imagining it but maybe he loved the little girl. He picked his daughter back up and whispered, "Hey, Clove." He stroked her freckled cheek and she wrapped her hand around his finger. He felt like it was the first time he actually held her and he knew he could do it. "C'mon, Clove, lets go home."

XxXxX

_He was twenty-four when he showed Clove his games._

It had been almost five years since he had found Clove on his doorstep and he didn't regret his decision for a moment. He had done a trade off with the President; he was off limits to his Capitol suitors as long as Brutus opened an elite gym and almost guaranteed that District Two would have a victor every year.

"Daddy!" Clove exclaimed, running down the stairs and into the kitchen where her father was making breakfast. "Daddy, why are you still in your PJ's? We have to go to training today!" Clove said.

Brutus chuckled, picking up Clove and placing her on one of the chairs at the counter. "That's not until tomorrow, sweetie," Brutus said, placing her breakfast in front of her.

"Oh" Clove said quietly and she devoured her breakfast. He wasn't happy that Clove was going to start training the next day. He didn't want her to go into the Hunger Games and go through what he did, but she had to be trained. That was part of the agreement, she didn't have to compete but at least have a shot if she was reaped.

"Clover, I think it's time you watched daddy's games" Brutus said and Clove looked up at him. Her brown eyes were wider than usual. She had known her father was in the games but had never watched them. Clove silently said ok and Brutus followed her as she ran into the living room.

He put the video in and sat next to his daughter on the couch. Clove climbed into his lap as she watched the bloodbath. Brutus watched Clove as she watched her eighteen-year-old father killing almost entirely defenseless children. She watched the whole games without saying a word and it wasn't until the end did she looked at him. Her eyes were indifferent and she hugged her father. "Don't be sad, Daddy" she said and Brutus kissed her head.

"Thank you, Clover."

XxXxX

_He was twenty-six when Clove met Cato._

On the first day of Clove's second year of training Brutus was on the other side of the gym, yelling at one of his students. He always trained the boy and girl who were going into the arena. Clove was on the other side of the gym, throwing knives. She wasn't the best in the district but would eventually get there with her raw talent and loads of practice. "You're really good," someone said behind her.

Clove jumped, pointing a knife at the unknown admirer. Behind her was a boy. He wasn't too tall, but a good three inches taller than her. He was skinny with short, straight, beach blond hair and breath taking light blue eyes. He looked like every citizen in district two, unlike Clove with her black hair, brown eyes and freckles. "Who are you?" Clove asked, lowering her knife.

"I'm Cato" the boy ginned. "What's your name?"

"I'm Clove" she smiled.

"I like you. Lets be friends," Cato stated. He was forward and later become popular because of it.

"Ok" Clove said, her smile growing larger. She had never had a friend because of her dad's reputation, but she never really cared. All she had all her life was her dad and that's all she needed.

Cato grinned. "Good."

XxXxX

_He was thirty-one when Clove's mother came back._

He had never known whom Clove's mother was since all of them were covered in make-up, dyes, and tattoos. He figured his daughter looks like her mother, but he would never know because even if she did appear on their doorstep since she was from the Capitol.

But, one day when Clove was out with Cato and her friends a Capitol woman came knocking on his door. "Sorry I'm not going to sign any autographs" he said trying to shut the door, but the woman stopped him.

"Silly me, you wouldn't recognize me with all the work I've had done" the woman said and a confused expression crossed Brutus' face. "Brutus it's me. Larine."

Brutus' eyes widened when she told him her name. "Why are you here? I don't want you near my Clove" Brutus said.

"I have right's Brutus," she said and Brutus scoffed.

"You signed you rights away eleven years ago" Brutus said. He had Clove's birth certificate and the papers saying she signed away her rights.

Larine flipped her light purple hair over her shoulder and said, "I want to see my baby, Brutus."

"Doesn't matter, she's not here. Now get off my property" Brutus said.

"Dad?" Clove asked as she walked up to her house, Cato by her side. He also lived in the victor's village; he and Clove had been almost inseparable since they met.

Larine spun around, her eyes landing on her daughter. Clove was small and didn't wear make-up or the most fashionable clothes. She was basically the opposite of a Capitolite. "Eww, Brutus who is that?" Larine asked.

"Your daughter" Brutus said and he saw Clove's eyes widen.

"Oh" Larine whispered sheepishly. "Well, I saw her. Goodbye, Brutus" she said walking down the steps and stopping in front of Clove. "Goodbye, sweetie."

"That was my mother?" Clove asked. She didn't know how to feel about the woman walking away from her. Clove could tell se didn't care about her, but she was her mother, the woman who gave her away. She decided she was upset.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Clove" Brutus said, opening his arms and Clove walked into them.

XxXxX

_He was thirty-five when Cato asked Clove out._

Brutus had known that Clove's crush on her best friend and had seen the way he looked back. He knew eventually Cato would confess his feelings for his daughter, but he hoped it came later in her life, not when she was fifteen.

Cato hadn't intended to tell her how he felt; it was a pure act of jealousy. One of the boys from the academy had taught Clove how to throw a spear and Cato had insisted he was flirting.

"And why do you care, Cato?" Clove had asked.

"I don't like guys… touching you" Cato said awkwardly.

Clove quirked up an eyebrow, not believing a word coming out of the sixteen-year-olds lips. "Tell me the truth, Cato," she demanded.

"I love you" Cato mumbled.

"Cato, don't mumble," she said, exasperatedly.

"I love you, Clove Mansfield" Cato said, clearly but quietly.

Clove's face broke into a grin; identical to the one Cato wore when they first met. "Good," she said. "'Cause I love you too."

And now here Brutus sat, alone in his house waiting for Clove to get back from her date. He was scared. Scared he would lose his little girl.

XxXxX

_He was thirty-seven he became a grandfather._

Brutus watched his little girl hold her own little girl. He hadn't been happy about his daughter becoming a mother at such a young age- she was barely seventeen- and would have killed Cato but he didn't think of leaving his girlfriend or child for a second.

"Dad, do you want to hold her?" Cato asked, holding his daughter in his arms.

"Just because you're marrying my daughter doesn't mean you can call me dad, but yes I would like to hold her," Brutus said and took the baby in his arms. He was reminded of the first time he held Clove- well, the third time he held Clove. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Lane" Clove said leaning against her fiancé. Brutus smiled. The baby girl looked just like her mother, but had her father's eyes. She was perfect in his eyes and he couldn't be happier.

XxXxX

_He was thirty-eight when he watched his daughter die._

She was reaped, a set up from by the Capitol simply for better television. Cato volunteered to protect her, leaving their beloved daughter in the care of her grandfather. They had no chance of winning until the rule change was announced.

There Clove was, perched on top of the girl on fire, her knife tracing her enemy's features and her words mocking the tribute from twelve. Clove was about to end the girl's life, but the tribute from eleven came out of nowhere and pinned the small dark haired girl against the cornucopia.

"Did you kill her?" the dark skinned boy yelled, referring to his deceased district partner.

"No, no I-" Clove stuttered.

"You said her name. Did you cut her up like this girl here?" he asked, slamming her against the cornucopia.

"No- Cato! Cato!" she yelled, her voice full of terror.

"Clove!" Cato yelled back. He might have been able to save her if Thresh didn't panic and throw her to the ground. He picked up a rock bigger then his own head and slammed it against Clove's head.

He ran as well as the girl on fire and left her alone until Cato kneeled by her side. "Clove, Clove, stay with me please" Cato begged, tears streaming down his cheeks and held her in his arms. "Clove, please open your eyes. I need you. Lane needs you. You'll be ok."

Clove opened her eyes, taking Cato's hand in hers. "T-tell Lane I-I love her and take ca-care of her. I love you, Cato" Clove said.

"I love you too, Clove" Cato sobbed; kissing her forehead before her eyes shut and her cannon went off. Cato cried, clutching Clove's body and not letting go until he was sedated.

Cato died four days later, muttering the words, "I'm sorry."

XxXxX

_He was thirty-nine when he volunteered again_

Brutus volunteered for the seventy-fifth Hunger Games. He went in to avenge his daughter and son-in-law and make sure that his granddaughter was safe from the event that killed her parents.

He helped Peeta and Katniss, but didn't manage to get out alive. They say that when you die your whole life flashes before they're eyes, but as Brutus lay on the sand of the damn Quarter Quell arena, dying he didn't see his life. All he saw was Clove when she was five years old, sitting on his lap and giggling as he tickled her. It was his favorite memory and thought it was a perfect way to die.


End file.
